


All Is Fair In Love And War

by la_muerta



Series: Sensorium [9]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Canon Universe, Episode Related, Established Relationship, Fic Battle, Fluff, M/M, Malec training scene, Post-Episode: s03e10 Erchomai, Sparring, episode speculation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-08 03:41:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15234546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/la_muerta/pseuds/la_muerta
Summary: Contrary to what everyone seems to think, Magnus does know how to live his life without his magic. When Alec insists on teaching Magnus how to fight without magic, Magnus thinks it might be time to prove a point.





	All Is Fair In Love And War

**Author's Note:**

> Part 5 of the ficlet battle between [irisadler](https://archiveofourown.org/users/irisadler/pseuds/irisadler) and I. (Ok, I overshot the word count by a _teeny_ bit :P) 
> 
> My prompt was: proprioception/kinesthetic sense (being aware of how your body is moving without relying on other senses, e.g. being able to touch your nose when your eyes are closed)

 

 

It's strangely fitting that the aftermath of spending any amount of time with his infernal father always results in him choosing to reject his magic. The first time, he had just been a child, so horrified by the things he had done that for decades after, he had been reluctant to use his magic for anything that wasn't a matter of life-or-death. Now, he's as good as a mundane, and Magnus won't deny that it's downright terrifying to not have his magic anymore. And yet, it was also a choice - he _chose_ to give up his magic so that Alec wouldn't have to kill a part of his own soul with his own hands, because he'd rather lose his magic than sit at the right hand of his father in hell.

Alec has been hovering about the Loft like some sort of depressing spectre since he recovered from his injuries, rattling heavy chains of guilt and sorrow. He's clearly torn between wanting to stay away because he thinks his presence reminds Magnus of the loss of such an integral part of himself, and worried that if he so much as takes a walk round the block, he'll be leaving Magnus vulnerable to the many enemies he's made over the years. Magnus wants to tell him that it wasn't his fault, that he doesn't need to apologise for it with every slump of his shoulders, with the way he quietly does all dishes and laundry, and with the way he holds Magnus too carefully, like he thinks he might accidentally break him.

Then one day over breakfast, Alec suddenly says, "Could you come in to the Institute today?" 

"Whatever for?" Magnus frowns. It's not like he can fix the Clave's fuck-ups with a wave of his hand anymore, which is the reason he gets summoned to the Institute 99% of the time. 

"I'm going to teach you how to fight - some basic self-defence. Just in case," Alec says, gentle but firm.  

It would be sweet if it wasn't so galling. As far as Alec has come, he still retains a little too much of his Nephilim attitude - that mentality that Downworlders need to be looked after, the typical Shadowhunter tendency to underestimate the tenacity and wit of the Downworlders. 

Magnus may not be as fit as Alec, his reflexes not honed to a warrior's efficiency the way Alec’s has been since he was old enough to wield a seraph blade. But Magnus has had centuries to get comfortable with his body - he knows exactly how each muscle feels when it flexes, knows exactly how much strength he needs to get what he wants and get where he wants to go. Besides, his arms and abs are real solid muscle, not a glamour, and he didn't get them that way by _magic_. 

He's also had four hundred years to learn how to fight really, really dirty. 

"Sure," Magnus agrees, trying to hide a smile. 

 

 

Magnus takes the subway to the Institute even though Alec tried to make him promise to call a cab, and Alec greets him with a frown the moment he steps over the threshold of the wards. 

"You're wearing that to train?" Alec asks, eyeing Magnus' sweater and skin-tight pants.

"I'll change when we get there," Magnus replies, and indicates that Alec should lead the way. 

Alec locks the doors of the training room behind him, presumably to save Magnus the embarrassment of having someone walk in on him getting thrashed. Magnus shrugs off his light sweater to reveal a black singlet underneath, the thin cotton so tight and flimsy that it leaves nothing to the imagination. He knots the sweater around his waist, only too aware of the way his biceps are flexing, and can't resist walking with a bit of a swing to his hips so that the sweater swirls and frames the area below the belt. 

He pretends not to notice Alec checking out his ass when he bends over to stretch his back and hamstrings. Strike one. 

Apparently they're starting with staff-fighting today, because Alec reasons that a long stick is the easiest weapon to obtain in a pinch. He goes into a spiel about fight stances, keeping the centre of gravity low and elbows out to the sides, and Magnus is only half paying attention, because he already knows this - which is probably why Alec manages to sweep his feet neatly out from underneath him within the first five minutes of their first round. Magnus lands on his back with a stunned  _ouf,_  blinking at the high ceilings of the Institute, the air knocked out of his lungs.

Alright, so maybe he's a bit more rusty than he thought he was. 

"Magnus! Are you ok?" Alec extends a hand to help Magnus up. 

"Of course," Magnus says, and sweeps his thumb over the back of Alec's hand before he lets go. "Never apologise for getting me on my back."

Alec huffs out a laugh, and they go again, but his cheeks are just a little pink. Strike two. 

This time, Magnus pays a bit more attention. The key is exploiting your opponent's weaknesses while defending your own - so he needs to win this fast before Alec wears him down with superior skill, and Alec's weakness is obviously _him_. Alec isn't going easy on him, which he appreciates, so even with Magnus trying to distract Alec with flirty winks and gratuitous bicep flaunting, it takes a while for Magnus to find an opening. But when he does, he grabs it - literally. He abandons his staff and goes for good old-fashioned hand-to-hand combat; one hand goes to palm the length of Alec's cock while the other targets the pressure point in Alec's wrist unerringly, forcing him to drop his staff. Alec's mouth opens in a gasp of surprise, and Magnus takes the opportunity to kiss him thoroughly before grabbing Alec by the forearm and flipping him over his shoulder. He straddles Alec before he can get up, pressing his ass down on Alec's crotch such that Alec's hardening cock is nestled in the crease of his ass, and grins down at Alec. Strike three.

"I hope you're not intending to pull those moves on every person who attacks you," Alec laughs, breathing hard from more than just being slammed to the floor.

"Only you, darling," Magnus promises, and leans down to kiss him.


End file.
